Miracle Of Lights
by Willow Edmond
Summary: When Dean gets the chance to spend Thanksgiving with Cinnamon and Neil, he also looks at it as a chance to improve on last year's Christmas light display. Fortunately, he's got a lot of family and neighbors to help him.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes : This story takes place in the Christmas right after Dean/Cinnamon and Seth/Kayla were married. This means that while Payton is Seth and Kayla's foster daughter, she has not been officially adopted. This also means Dean is still the WHC, and the events of _United We Stand_ have not taken place. **

**Miracles of Lights**

 _Part I_

Dean was going home for Thanksgiving, a stroke of luck he was so thankful for, that he almost wanted to send a fruit basket to the offices of the WWE, just to let them know just _how_ thankful he really was. As the WWE World Heavyweight Champion, he had been working non stop since he got the belt, and fully expected that for Thanksgiving, he would be overseas, some place that didn't celebrate. Instead, he had gotten Thanksgiving off and the Friday after.

It got even better as the House Show he would have on Saturday was in Virginia, less than a three hour ride from his house, and he had permission to show up at the _second_ call, not first, which meant he had part of Saturday off too. He was grateful for that, because he was sure he'd need some extra time to sleep and recover from Friday night.

Still even better? Seth and Roman had the same thing, Thanksgiving off, then Friday, then late call Saturday. And, since Dean was the closest to the house show, everyone was coming over for Thanksgiving to Dean and Cinnamon's. Not just Roman and Seth, but their families had flown out to be there too. Sure, their tiny ranch house was a little small to hold all these people, so unfortunately, Seth, Roman, and their families would be sleeping in the nearby hotel, but they would still have Thanksgiving together, and, almost more important, the Friday afterwords.

Dean had arrived home at 3:30 in the morning, having flown on a red eye after the house show. Roman and Seth had dropped him off at the house, promising to be back later, then left to go to the hotel, where their families already were.

Dean watched the car roll down the street, then hefted his duffel bag and jogged up to the door. He expected it to be locked, Cinnamon and Neil to be sleeping, but when he tried the knob, more a force of habit, as his left hand fumbled in his pocket for his keys, he was surprised when the knob turned and the door opened.

"Hello?" he called out softly, as he walked inside. There was an opening in the wall between the kitchen and the living room, and he could smell coffee and see the light on in the kitchen. Then he saw her, Cinnamon, cup of coffee in her hands, standing by the kitchen counter. She turned as he walked in, shutting the door behind him. She was wearing a pair of old sweat pants and a long t-shirt, her hair hanging long and loose, showing evidence of having barely been touched by a brush, tell him that she was just waking up. When she saw him, she put the coffee cup back on the counter and hurried out of the room. He barely had time to drop his bag on the floor and she was throwing herself into his arms, wrapping herself around him and kissing him so deeply that he could feel it right down to his little toe on his left foot, which had been damage so many times he rarely felt much of anything with it. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer into him and kissed her back with the same passion.

"Can we have sex?" he blurted out, when the had stopped kissing and were just holding each other. "Please?" Part of him wanted to hit himself, this was not the way he pictured greeting her, and he knew that he should be asking her how she was, how Neil was, and telling her how much he missed her, but now that he was holding her, smelling that scent of coconut and vanilla, feeling her warmth pressed into him, all politeness had vanished, hell all rational thought had vanished, all he could think was how long it had been and how much he wanted her.

She responded by jumping on him, almost knocking him to the floor, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him back so hard he could feel their teeth clicking together. That was the thing with Cinnamon, she always _got_ him. She didn't think he was too blunt, she didn't think he was unreasonable, she knew how he felt, knew that his blatant request wasn't born of rudeness, but born of a need, not just on his side, but hers as well. It had been too long since they had indulged in that ultimate communion of body and soul and they both craved it.

Wrapping his arms so one was around her waist, the other hand under her, he carried her down the hall into their bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

* * *

Slightly over an hour later, they were both lying in bed, temporarily sedated and Dean felt the night, the show he had done before, the long flight, the drive to the house, crashing down on him. "Sleepy," he murmured, stroking Cinnamon's hair. She was curled up next to him, her head on his chest.

"Get some sleep then," she whispered, leaning up and kissing his chin. "Neil won't be up for three or four hours, and I have a lot of work to do, anyway.

"You don't mind?" he said, already feeling his brain drifting towards that unconscious state.

"Not at all." She kissed him again and sat up. "When you wake up, I'll have coffee made and you can decide if you want breakfast or if you just want to wait for the Thanksgiving meal."

He was sound asleep by the time she was dressed and out of the room, his body relaxing, even in his dreams, taking in the scent of her that lived in the pillows, blankets and sheets that surrounded him.

* * *

He woke up at eight, only four hours, but he had dozed a bit on the plane. And in his line of work, four hours wasn't bad at all. He was hoping though, that tonight he'd get a solid six to eight. He had big plans for tomorrow, plans he'd been working on ever since he found out he'd have this time off. He was hoping he'd get a chance today, to find out how those plans were working out. Cinnamon knew of some of them, she didn't know _all_ of them.

After showering and changing into a pair of sweat pants and an ancient CZ wrestling T-shirt, washed so often it had faded from black to a barely gray color and the red lettering now was nothing but a series of random dots, he headed for the kitchen.

He barely shut the door to the bedroom, when Neil came charging down the hall, throwing himself in Dean's arms. "Dad! You're awake!"

"Yep," Dean braced himself to accept the impact and hugged Neil back, tousling his hair. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Neil hugged him again, tighter and raised himself up on the balls of his feet, so he could whisper in his ear, "Ka'eo's in the back yard working on stuff. He says he needs to talk to you at some point."

"Thanks," Dean whispered back.

"What are you two chatting about?" Cinnamon asked, popping her head around the corner and looking down the hall. "Neil, let your father get in the kitchen before you monopolize him, I'm sure he wants some coffee."

"Am I monopolizing you?" Neil asked, grinning.

"Yeah, but it's cool." Ruffling his son's hair, Dean headed into the kitchen, which smelled like clove and nutmeg and a million other scents, all wonderful. He sat at the light oak table, noting that it was still set up to hold no more than four people. "Do you need me to put the extenders in the table later?" he asked, as Cinnamon put a cup of coffee in front of him.

"No," Cinnamon said, shaking her head. "no need."

"How are you going to fit nine, maybe even ten people around the table, if Jasper Coleman comes?" Dean asked, folding his hands around the cup, grateful for its warmth and sniffing the scent, which helped clear the brain fog as much as the taste.

"We're having a _little_ more than ten people," Cinnamon said, biting her lip. "I hope you don't mind."

Dean looked at her. "How many people are you talking about?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee. The taste, both bitter and smooth, bold and comforting amazed him. Cinnamon made coffee better than anyone else he knew. He didn't know how she did it, but she did.

"Well, the Wilson's will be joining us," Cinnamon said. "Normally, they go to their daughter's for Thanksgiving, but this year her daughter and their family are going to Oregon to be with her husband's side of the family, and since they're like Grandparents to Neil I thought we should have them over. And then the Karume family are coming too. Some of the wrestlers from the WVW are coming, because they really don't have family and everyone should have someplace to go on Thanksgiving..." her voice trailed off.

"So, how many people are coming?" Dean asked, baffled as he thought about how many people they'd be trying to fit into the tiny house.

"Around twenty five, give or take a few," Cinnamon confessed. She was sitting at the table with her own cup of coffee. It was obvious from the state of the kitchen that she was working at getting things ready, but she was willing to take a coffee break for him. Neil was sitting down too, drinking orange juice.

"How are we going to fit twenty five people in this house?" Dean asked, looking around the tiny kitchen in bewilderment.

"We're not," Cinnamon admitted. "I rented tables and chairs and a tent. We'll be eating in the back yard. We set up the tent yesterday, it's all ready."

Dean took another sip of his coffee, so she wouldn't see the grin that he was having trouble hiding. "What would you have done if it had been cold?" It had been an unusually warm November, even for West Virginia. When he was on the road, he check the temperature near Cinnamon and Neil every day, it was his way of trying to understand what they were experiencing, even when he couldn't be there.

"I would have rented some of those big, outdoor propane heaters," Cinnamon answered. "But we won't need them, so it doesn't matter." She took a sip of her own coffee, avoiding meeting his gaze.

"How are you going to make enough _food_ for all these people?" Dean asked. "I mean, I'm sure you've been prepping for this for weeks, but this is still only one tiny kitchen."

"The Wilson's and the Karume's have kitchens too, they're helping out," Cinnamon said. "We're having three turkeys. I'm cooking one here, the Karume's are deep frying one, and Mr. Wilson is going to grill one, so we'll have a fried turkey, a traditional turkey and a barbecued turkey. And all kitchens are in use for making the side dishes. You'll see, it will be fine." She looked over at him. "You don't mind, do you? I mean, I know you don't have much time off and you were probably thinking it would be just like last year, just ten or so of us, but it's Thanksgiving and I couldn't let the Wilson's just sit over there along and -"

"Cinnamon?" Dean said, causing her to stop her rambling apology and look up at him. When she did, he reached over and took her hand. "It's fine. It's great. It's going to be a blast."

"I think so, too," Cinnamon agreed, smiling and squeezing his hand.

* * *

Seth, Roman, and their families showed up about nine in the morning, something that had obviously been planned and discussed among the wives, because they immediately went to work in the kitchen. Neil, Payton and Leah greeted each other with great enthusiasm, acting as if they never saw each other, when in truth, the three of them were constantly Skyping, texting, and emailing each other. It didn't take long before they were banished to the outside. "Go show them your wrestling ring," Cinnamon suggested.

"They've seen it," Neil protested.

"Show them again!" Cinnamon said, and this time her tone of voice said it was not a suggestion, but an order.

Neil looked at the two girls. "Wanna see my wrestling ring?" he asked, his voice fake and overly enthusiastic.

"Sure!" Payton and Leah chimed in with equal enthusiasm and the three of them ran out of the house together.

Dean grinned as the kids ran out the door and looked at Roman and Seth. "Maybe we should see how things are going in the back yard, too?"

* * *

Outside, the tent had been set up yesterday, stretching across much of the back yard. Ka'eo and Makaio were setting up folding tables and chairs. When Ka'eo saw Dean, he finished unfolding one of the metal chairs and ran over. "Dean!" he called out.

"Hey, Ka'eo," Dean said, giving the kid a hug. He'd grown since the wedding, at least an inch, but he still had that gangly look. "You remember Seth and Roman here, right? You met them at the wedding."

"And I see them on TV every week," Ka'eo reminded Dean. The four of them exchanged greetings, then Ka'eo grinned. "I've got everything set, just like you wanted."

"Good!" Dean nodded. "Where's the stuff?"

"In our shed," Ka'eo said, pointing to the shed in their back yard. "Mom and Dad know about it, I had to tell them, but we've kept most of it from Cinnamon."

"Kept most of what?" Roman asked, looking over at Seth, the two men wondering what in the world Dean was planning and would this get them into any trouble.

"Christmas lights and other things." Dean grinned. "Remember I told you about how we decorated the house last year? And how Pete Spencer the asshole neighbor three houses up was furious because he thinks he's the king of the Christmas Lights?"

"Yes," Seth said, slowly. Of _course_ he remembered, it was impossible to forget. Dean had been on a leave from the company at the time, but he had sent pictures of the house, all done up, pictures of Pete Spencer's house, and many texts calling Pete's house every name he could think of, while praising his own to the skies. It had gotten to the point where both Roman and Seth had started regretting Dean's new proficiency with technology and were wishing he'd go back to being the guy who still had trouble figuring out how to answer his cell phone when a call came through.

"Well, this year, we're _really_ going to make him cry," Dean said, the grin if his deepening and taking on a vengeful undertone. "Our display is going to span over _three_ houses. The Wilson's, mine, and the Karume's. We're going to have over a million lights, light and music shows, and we're going to make Pete Spencer's house look lame, as if he'd strung a few strands across his porch and called it a day."

Roman and Seth exchanged looks. "They had known about helping to decorate the house tomorrow, Dean had made that very clear, but this sounded like a lot more than he had made it out to be. "Are you sure?" Roman asked.

"Oh, I'm sure," Dean said, nodding. "I'm _very_ sure. Ka'eo's getting all his friends to help, the same ones we had last year."

"And a lot of the adults are helping too," Ka'eo said, enthusiastically. "Makaio and I have been talking to everyone and pretty much the whole block is going to be here, helping."

"Excellent." Dean rubbed his hands together, looking for a moment like a sinister villain from a child's cartoon. "The more the merrier."

"And, we've been working on the Wilson's house and our house when we could too," Ka'eo continued, grinning. "Chuck's been working too, getting the lights ready to sync to the music. He built a new computer this year, so he's using his old one to coordinate the lights show. And believe me, his old one is plenty powerful to do everything we need and more. Trust me, Dean, this will be the best."

"Isn't this an awful lot of work just to show up an old guy?" Roman asked, feeling a little sorry for Pete Spencer. It was obvious from everything he had heard, the man lived for his light display, it seemed mean that Dean and the rest of the neighbors were trying to take this away from him.

"Pete Spencer is an asshole," Dean growled, "he deserves this and more."

Ka'eo bit his lip. "He-he's bad news," he finally blurted out. "I've helped him with his lights since I was a kid, he paid me twenty five bucks a day. The last few years, I was putting in ten hour days with him for that same money. Every free moment I had he was pounding on my door, demanding I help him. Last year, I got a couple friends to help, just to try to get it done? He _still_ only gave me twenty five bucks for _three_ of us. We worked one Saturday for over twelve _hours_ , for less than ten bucks each."

Roman shook his head, understanding the disgust, but still not ready to give in completely. "Okay, that was wrong, but-"

"-But, he got me arrested," Makaio interrupted, as he joined them, having finished setting up the chairs.

"What?" Roman asked, looking at the young man in surprise. "Got you arrested? For what?"

"Officially? Attempted break in," Makaio said, his expression sour. "But _unofficially?_ It was NBW."

"NBW?" Seth asked, looking puzzled.

"Not Being White," Makaio said. He shrugged, but it was obvious he was still upset by the incident. "The Spencer's went on vacation last summer. We all knew they were gone, and they were supposed to come back on Sunday morning. They came back Saturday night instead, we didn't know that, because he parked the car in the garage. About one in the morning, I hear all this clattering going on in their shed. So, thinking he was on vacation, I got up, grabbed a flashlight and went over to see what was going on. Pete isn't very liked in this neighborhood, so I thought it might be some of the neighborhood kids, messing with his shed. I didn't want to call the cops on kids, so I figured I'd see what was going on, scare them off, you know?"

Roman nodded. Unlike his cousin Ka'eo, who was gangly and thin, Makaio had a heavier build to him, not fat, but pure muscle. He was wrestling for WVW, Cinnamon having gotten him a try-out, and it was obvious he had been spending most of his free time, building himself up. It was easy to see how Makaio would have felt that he could quickly intimidate a group of kids causing mischief, getting them to run off before any real damage was done. "And what happened?" he asked.

"I went over and saw it was Mr. Spencer, just putting the luggage in his shed from the trip," Makaio said. "I told him I heard the noise and came over to check it out, but since it was him, I'd go back home. We talked for a couple minutes, I helped him put the luggage away, you know, that neighborly crap. Then, as I was about to leave, the cops came. Pete had heard _me_ coming and called them before he knew it was me."

"Yeah, but it was all just a misunderstanding, right?" Seth asked, understanding why the guy might have called the cops if he heard someone outside his property late that night. "I mean, he just told the cops that you'd come over to make sure the house was all right, right?"

Makaio shook his head, almost violently and Ka'eo, standing next to him had an angry scowl on his face. "No, Pete _didn't_ tell the cops that, he told them that he was sure I was coming over to break into his shed and steal his lawnmower. He's got a pretty nice one and Ka'eo's family has an old one that breaks down all the time, but we can always fix it enough to get by. But the cops arrested _me_ that night. Took me down to the station, finger printed me, the whole bit."

"Cinnamon bailed him out," Dean said, softly. He knew about the incident, as Cinnamon had told him.

"I didn't want to call my aunt and uncle," Makaio said, hanging his head and looking ashamed. "I was born on Molokai, just like my aunt. I came to the mainland to go to college and to wrestle. They don't charge me any rent, they took me in to help me. Even though I didn't do anything wrong, I was still...embarrassed. I-I had Cinnamon's number and I called her and she came and bailed me out, took me home, and talked to my aunt and uncle."

"What happened then?" Roman asked, his voice soft, but a hard glint coming to his eyes as he thought about this young man being arrested for nothing more than trying to be a good neighbor.

"Eventually, the case was dismissed," Makaio said. "It just couldn't hold up, though Pete Spencer tried. But, there just wasn't enough evidence and the judge could even see what happened, that it was all a mistake. But still, it's on my record that I was arrested for breaking and entering. Yeah, it also shows it was dismissed, but it's still on there."

"Okay, this guy is an asshole," Seth said slowly.

"No, he's more than an asshole," Dean disagreed. "He's a _racist_ asshole. Trust me, if I had been home and I had gone up there instead of Makaio, Pete would have explained to the cops that it was a misunderstanding. Because I'm _white."_

"Do you know that for fact?" Roman asked.

"It's true," Ka'eo blurted out. "Everyone on the street knows what he's like. I worked for him for years, doing stuff for him and some of the stuff he's said to me..." his voice trailed off and he shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it!" he finally said, obviously uncomfortable.

Roman and Seth looked at each other, then to Dean. "Okay," Roman said, deliberately bringing the subject back on track. "We're gonna take that motherfucker _down._ "

Dean grinned. "Oh yes, we are." He was about to add to that, when his phone rang. He fished it out of his back pocket and looked at who was calling and frowned. "It's May."

"May?" Roman asked.

"May Devany, from NXT," Dean said, staring at the phone in puzzlement as the generic ring tone buzzed. "I wonder what she wants?" He had met her a few times, he had gone to NXT a couple times when they were in the area, and May herself had done a few opening shows for Raw and SmackDown. And while they had been pleasant with each other, they hadn't bonded or exchanged phone numbers.

"You could just answer the phone and find out," Seth suggested, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, yeah, good point." Dean pressed the button to accept the call and brought the phone to his ear, wandering towards the porch to hear what was going on. "Hello?"

"Is-Is this Dean Ambrose?"

Dean recognized May's voice, but she didn't sound like her usual self, which was normally pretty cheerful. The girl talking to him now sounded worried and at her wits end. "Yeah, it's me, May, what's up?"

"I didn't want to call you," May said, her voice sounding more strained as she spoke, "But I'm out of options and I remember you lived in West Virginia, and I heard you got Thanksgiving off, so I thought that- no never mind, you're probably with your family and I'm just being a big bother and, don't worry, we'll fix it."

"Whoa!" Dean called out, "May, what's going on?"

"I'm with my sister," May said, as if this cleared up everything. "She just got signed with NXT."

"Okay," Dean said, bewildered. "Congratulations to her, but what's going _on?"_

"We were headed home," May said, and now Dean could hear tears in her voice. "Trying to make it back to New York for Thanksgiving. And the car- that _shit-box_ car I have, it broke down!"

Dean was starting to put it together. The fact that she was calling him, likely meant she and her sister, who went by the name Raven Poe were stranded somewhere in West Virginia. "Did you call a tow truck?" he asked.

"We did," May said, sniffling. "Well, we called Triple A. But they're saying it's going to be at least six _hours_ before a truck will get here. We got the car off the road, we were able to get it in a weight station on the highway, but we were, we were wondering if maybe you knew someone local who might be able to get here sooner? Someone who isn't listed with Triple A?"

"Hang on, let me ask," Dean said, as he walked into the house. Cinnamon was just taking a pie out of the oven that smelled wonderfully of apples and the spice that shared her name. Kayla and Jessica were peeling potatoes at the table. He nodded to them and walked over to Cinnamon. "We've got a situation," he said.

"What's going on?"

He explained the situation to Cinnamon, who frowned and took the phone from him. "Let me handle this," she said.

Dean stared at her, then walked out of the kitchen, onto the porch and out into the backyard, where he explained to everyone who had called him.

"Those poor girls," Seth said. "What a day to be stranded."

Dean shrugged. "I have a feeling they won't be stranded for long. They won't be making it home for Thanksgiving, but I bet they won't be stranded by the side of the road."

* * *

It was too bad nobody took Dean up on that bet, because he would have won. Less than twenty minutes later, Cinnamon came out and handed him back his phone. "You're going to go pick them up," she said. "And bring them here. We can't leave them stranded by the side of the road for Thanksgiving. But before that, go up the street to Jamal's house."

Dean stared at her. "Jamal?"

"Yes, Jamal, who owns the garage and the tow truck?" Cinnamon reminded him, shaking her head. "I just called him, he's expecting you. Give him the coordinates, Kayla found on the internet the exact location of the weigh station they're at, using the mile markers." She handed him two small pieces of paper, "One for you, one for him. He's going to pick up their car and tow it to his garage and look at it tomorrow. Raven thinks it's the alternator. But you're going to pick the girls up and bring them here. We can't have them alone on Thanksgiving."

"Okay," Dean said, forcing himself not to grin. "Maybe they can get a room at the same hotel Roman and Seth are staying at."

Cinnamon shook her head. "We _do_ have a guest room, they can stay with us. God knows they're going to need all they've got to get the car working and NXT doesn't pay as well as the WWE does. Bring them here, we'll get it all settled. There's plenty of food for everyone. Now, if you'll excuse me, May's phone was dying, I have to call her mother and let her know her daughter is safe. She must be worried sick." On that she turned and went back to the house.

Dean looked at Seth. "I told you they wouldn't be stranded for long."

End of Pt. 1

 _ **Author's Notes: This is my Christmas present to anyone out there who enjoys my stuff. It's a four part story, I'll be posting one part a day for the next four days.**_

 _ **Like all good gifts, it comes with no strings attached. If you want to leave a review, even if it's just to say, "Good story!" or (gulp) "Meh" that would really be appreciated, but if you just want to read it and enjoy it, go ahead. No pressure.**_

 _ **I hope everyone who reads this is doing well as you prepare for whatever Holiday you celebrate. And if your holiday has already past? I hope it was wonderful.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Miracle of Lights**

 _Part II_

Jamal was waiting outside by his tow truck when Dean walked the few houses up the street to his place. Dean gave him one of the sheets of paper, telling him they were the coordinates.

"I'm pretty sure I know where it is, but I'll plug this into the GPS, just to be sure," Jamal said. "Bad luck for those two girls."

"Yeah, but we'll take them in," Dean said. "Cinnamon is already planning they can spend the night. Do you think you'll have a chance to look at the car tomorrow?"

Jamal nodded. "Yeah, your wife told me that it's probably the alternator, and from what she relayed to me from the girls, that seems about right. I know they aren't made of money, either, your wife told me that, too. I have connections, I'll see what I can do about getting a used alternator and I won't charge them much."

"How would you like to make a hundred on top of what you'll be charging them?" Dean asked.

Jamal looked at him. "What do you have in mind, Mr. Ambrose?"

Dean grinned. "Make sure that their car won't be ready until either late tomorrow, or early Saturday morning."

Jamal looked puzzled, then nodded. "More labor for the Christmas Light Spectacular you're planning? To be followed by the Neighborhood block party?"

"Yeah," Dean grinned and rubbed his hands together briskly. "These are two small, but _strong_ women. I can use them for this. So, we got a deal? One hundred dollars if they can't leave until Saturday morning."

Jamal looked across the street, where Pete Spencer happened to live. Already the blow molds were set up, the lights were put up too. This year he hadn't had Ka'eo helping, he had brought in a professional crew. Everyone in the neighborhood knew it. Everyone in the neighborhood knew that Pete Spencer, pain in the ass most of the time, became doubly so when it came to his precious Christmas lights. Dean's wild display last year had quieted him down slightly, but didn't shut him up. Maybe this year, Dean _could_ shut him up. "No problem," he said. "The car will not be ready until Saturday morning. I'll just say that I can't get whatever I need until late tomorrow, so I'll fix it first thing Saturday morning. That fair?"

Dean nodded, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. "Let me give you the hundred."

Jamal shook his head. "I'm not taking your money, Dean. A couple years ago, my boy broke his arm falling off our back deck. JJ doesn't like strangers. Your wife came up and got him settled, got him into one of those inflatable casts, got him all set and then drove him and my wife to the hospital. I was working at the time, but she made a bad situation a whole lot better. JJ would have freaked in the ambulance. So, I owe her. It isn't the only time she's helped out, either. My wife calls her every time JJ is sick and she's always got good advice. And if that wasn't enough, if what you're planning tomorrow shuts Pete Spencer up? It's a double blessing. So, keep your money. And I promise, those girls will get the best price possible when I fix their car. But, we should go. If we're late getting them to your place for dinner, your wife will be fit to be tied."

Dean nodded. "Speaking of wives, I hope we're not pulling you away from your Thanksgiving dinner."

Jamal shook his head. "Lydia's mom took sick and she and JJ flew there last night. So, I'm just a happy bachelor."

Dean frowned. "You don't have other family or friends to go to for Thanksgiving?"

"No, but it's okay," Jamal said. "I don't mind."

"No, it's _not_ okay," Dean said. "You'll come to our place for dinner. What one more person?"

"I don't want to be-" Jamal began.

"Dude, if I don't invite you and don't get you to come, Cinnamon will wring my neck," Dean interrupted. "You're coming. Now, let's get this show on the road."

* * *

Roman offered to go with Dean to pick up the girls so they could use the SUV Roman had rented, rather than Cinnamon's car, which she had parked by the side of the house to have more room in the driveway for other cars that would be coming later.

"This is going to be a huge Thanksgiving," Dean commented as he buckled his seat belt. Roman was giving the coordinates to the GPS system.

"Yeah, reminds me of some of my family get togethers," Roman remarked.

"Please drive to highlighted route," The GPS ordered them.

* * *

It didn't take long to get to the weigh station, and as they pulled up, they saw the two girls, sitting on the hood of May's car, which indeed was what could be called a "shit-box." Both girls were looking tired and dejected. But they looked up as Roman pulled the SUV next to their car. "Hey!" Dean called out, putting down the window. "How's it going?"

They were similar enough in looks that they could have been mistaken for twins, even though there were a few years apart in age. May though, wore her black hair in hundreds of tiny braids, while Raven's hair was tied in the back by a simple ponytail. Both girls looked anxious and impatient as if they had been waiting here for way too long. "Thank you," May said. "I know we're being a bother but-"

"-But _nothing_ ," Dean interrupted, getting out of the SUV, "Let's get your stuff in the car, the tow truck should be along soon. Jamal is good people, he'll tow your car to his garage and look at it tomorrow."

"We have some pies," Raven said, her voice glum as she slid off the car and headed for the trunk to get the girl's things, "Pecan pies. We decided to go through West Virginia to get home so we could stop at this place that sells the best pecan pie my grandfather ever ate. We wanted to pick a few up to surprise him." She shook her head, "Surprise, Grandpa, you ain't getting no pecan pie."

"Don't worry, it won't go to waste," Dean said.

Jamal showed up as they were putting the girls things into the back of the SUV. "See?" Dean said as the tow truck pulled up. "We're all set now, so just relax. We'll get you to our place and you can have Thanksgiving with us."

* * *

When they got home, Cinnamon took charge of May and Raven immediately, accepting the pies, brushing off their apologies, and leading them into the master bedroom. "You'll be spending the night in the guest room," she explained, "But I figured with you girls out on the road and all the waiting, you might want to take a nap and a shower, so I figured you could use the master bedroom for now. It has a bathroom off of it," she pointed to the door, "so you'll have more privacy. I've got fresh towels and all in there for you." She looked at the clock. "It's noon now, we're going to eat about four, I'll knock about three to make sure you're awake." Before the girls could object, she left the room, giving them their privacy.

When she came back into the kitchen, Dean looked at her. "Are you sure you want them sleeping in the master bedroom?" he asked, raising his brows.

Cinnamon shook her head, and frowned, but her eyes were sparkling. "I changed the sheets while you were getting them," she said, as if it should be obvious she had taken care of that.

Jessica and Kayla looked at each other, trying not to laugh.

"Good," Dean said, grinning, the paused as he remembered his earlier conversation with Jamal. "Hey, Jamal's wife and boy are out of town on a family emergency," he said. "I guess her mom is sick or something? Well, anyway, I invited him over for Thanksgiving. Is that okay?"

"It's fine," Cinnamon said. "I'll call him to let him know what time."

* * *

They ended up with over 30 people, but there was plenty of food. Cinnamon and the Wilson's had made plenty of the traditional dishes, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, dressing, and so on, while the Karume's brought several Hawaiian side dishes.

With so many people gathering, the tradition of everyone saying what they were thankful for, was dropped. Cinnamon did debate if she should have everyone mention the one thing they were most grateful for, but then seemed to remember that the Wilson's would be there and wrestlers from WVW, some who were bound to be a little _too_ honest about what they were grateful for. So, instead they observed a moment of silence, giving everyone a chance to reflect on whatever it was they wanted to, or to thank whatever deity they served. After the moment of silence, Cinnamon suggested a toast to the health of Jamal's mother-in-law, which made the man go silent for a bit, then he wiped his eyes and thanked everyone. Then, the meal started.

Conversations were lively and plentiful, and Dean noted with some amusement that the younger wrestlers from WVW were keeping their talk respectful as possible, treating the Wilson's like surrogate grandparents, calling them "Sir" and "Ma'am." Dean had hung around with these guys before, and others just like them and knew that if it had just been them at the table, the conversations would have ranged to a variety of topics ranging from off color, to downright disgusting, but today, they barely left the range of pleasant. Even politics and religion were avoided in favor of more socially acceptable things.

May and Raven seemed shy at first, both of them feeling like they had intruded where they shouldn't be, but soon enough they too, relaxed when they realized that at least for today, everyone at this table was family. The size of the crowd didn't bother them, with a family of thirteen kids and grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins always coming and going in each others lives, they were quite used to large crowd at the dinner table and soon enough, both of them were telling tales of their siblings that several times had people at the table laughing so hard they had to gulp at their drink to keep from choking. Raven, Dean soon discovered had a droll sense of humor and a gift for mimicry.

Dean had thought nothing would ever beat Thanksgiving last year, his first Thanksgiving with Neil, his first Thanksgiving with his son, and in many ways that always would be a special Thanksgiving, but this one had its points too. It was big and noisy, and there was something comforting about all these people, gathered together under this tent in his back yard, enjoying each other. _Today,_ he thought, _we are not just the Ambrose family, the Rollins family, the Reigns family, the Wilson_ _'_ _s, the Karume family and some outsiders. We are not a group of young wrestlers, or a guy whose family has to be elsewhere. Today, we are a tribe. We are all one people, bound together for one purpose. To eat too much_.

* * *

After the main dinner was over, everyone was too full for dessert, so people divided themselves between watching TV in one of the three living rooms, or helping with the dishes. Mrs. Wilson had borrowed dishes from her church, smart enough to grab enough plates and silverware for more than thirty people, and all three dishwashers went into service to wash. Dean and Neil brought the clean plates from their own dishwasher over to the Wilson's, where they helped pack it neatly into boxes. Ka'eo and Makaio brought the ones that had been washed at their house over, and the four of them packed it all up securely and loaded it into their car so they could return it on Sunday.

"If you want to return it Saturday morning, I'll tag along so you won't have to unload the boxes," Dean offered.

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary," Mrs. Wilson said, smiling. "There are plenty of strong young men at church to get the boxes out of the car."

* * *

It was dark outside by the time they had desert, but it was still relatively warm. As they were eating from the various pies available, Dean having to admit the pecan pies brought by Raven and May being one of the most delicious he ever tasted, Dean looked at the wrestlers. "Okay, how many of you can come over tomorrow?"

A couple of them begged off, saying they had jobs to go to, but several nodded. "What's going on?" one of them asked.

"We're going to have a house decorating party," Dean said. "To be followed by a block party."

Cinnamon looked up from her pie, head tipped to one side. "Dean, I know Ka'eo is having some of his friends come over, how many people are we going to have? You did the house last year in a few hours."

"That was last year," Dean said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "That was _amateur_ compared to what I want to do this year." It was time to let Cinnamon in on this, he knew it. He had everything down, planned everything with a lot of help from Ka'eo, because he knew if he'd told Cinnamon too early, she would have worried about it.

"The yard isn't that big, do we _really_ need all these people?" she asked.

"Yes," Dean said nodding. "We need as many people as we can get. Because this isn't just _our_ yard we're doing. The Wilson's and the Karume's are donating their yard. We are going to do a three house lights extravaganza that will put last years display to shame." He paused to take a sip of his coffee and grinned. "If Pete Spencer was upset last year, he's going to be freaked out this year. We're going to make his house look _weak."_

"We don't have that many lights!" Cinnamon protested. "We have the ones from last year, I put them all away, but-"

"-but yes we do," Dean interrupted, his grin getting broader. "Ka'eo's been picking up lights like crazy and storing them in his shed."

Ka'eo nodded. "He's been ordering stuff online and Makaio and I have been picking it up at Home Depot and some other places. We've got a shed _full_ of stuff." He looked at Dean, "And all the kids that came last year are coming this year, more, even!"

"Good," Dean nodded.

Cinnamon's eyes were wide. "This is going to be huge," she said, shaking her head. "And they'll be here all day, how are we going to feed them? I mean, they'll be here all day! I know people on the street are going to bring things for the block party, but we're talking a _lot_ of people and a _long_ time. We'll need a lot of _real_ food, not just party snacks!"

Dean grinned. "Again, I got it covered," he said. "Remember the company we hired to cater our wedding? Bob's BBQ? Well, I hired them. They'll be here tomorrow around noon and we've got them until nine at night."

Cinnamon shook her head, looking caught somewhere between laughter and aggravation. "I suppose there is no sense in arguing with you about this, is there? It's too late, right?"

Dean grinned. "You're learning."

"Well," Cinnamon said with a wry grin, "My mother always told me that marriage is a constant learning process."

* * *

Even though Thanksgiving had taken on a party like atmosphere, everyone helped clean up and left by nine o'clock at night. Most of the wrestlers from WVW agreed to come over the next day to help with the decorating and to join the block party. A few even offered to "bring something" which Dean was pretty sure meant "beer." He was fine with that. He had a couple kegs being delivered the next day along with various other alcoholic beverages, and the Karume shed, along with lights and decorations, also contained cases of soda and juice. Cinnamon had several plastic barrels, originally sold as trash containers, but she only used them to fill with ice to keep drinks cold.

He was given the honor of tucking Neil into bed. And though Neil was quick to protest he was too old to be tucked into bed, he didn't really make any effort to stop Dean, either.

"Remember last year, you told me the Jack and The Beanstalk story?" Neil asked, as Dean walked around his bed, making sure all covers were evenly distributed.

"You mean, Neil and the Giant Tomato Plant?" Dean asked, remembering the alterations he had been forced to make to the story to please Neil.

"Yeah," Neil nodded. "That was fun. Of course, I'm too old for that now, I suppose."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, wanting to acknowledge that Neil wasn't a child, but when he saw the look of disappointment flash across Neil's face, Dean sat down on the edge of the bed. "Maybe you are too old for Neil and the Giant Tomato Plant, but maybe I can tell you another story."

"What?" Neil asked, a little too much eagerness in his voice.

"How about..." Dean said slowly, thinking of the fairy tales he knew and how to alter them to suit his son. "...The Four Clever Wyatts?

Neil moved over on the bed to make room for his father to lay down next to him. "That sounds good."

Dean laid down next to Neil, on top of the covers, propping himself up on the headboard. "Once upon a time, there was an old man named Vince, who had four sons..."

* * *

Even though Dean had told everyone to be over around ten, to give himself time to sleep in, he found himself waking up at six in the morning, even beating Cinnamon up. He wanted to let her sleep until eight, so he decided to go for a run. He knew he'd be skipping gym time today, no time for that, but he figured running was cardio, which counted, and it would give him some time to clear his head and prepare for the day. They had a treadmill on the porch, a nice one, but Dean preferred to run on the streets, to see the scenery pass.

His phone told him it was forty degrees Fahrenheit, 4.444 Celsius, so he put on shorts and a t-shirt. He would be cold to start with, but he knew he'd soon warm up. He went to the kitchen to start the coffee, amazed at how quiet the house was. So far, May and Raven were proving to be almost silent house guests. They had gone to bed about the same time Dean had tucked Neil in and no one had heard a peep out of them.

When he got outside, he was surprised to see May, also wearing shorts and a T-shirt, doing stretches on the lawn. She looked up when she saw him, and grinned. "let me guess," she said, her voice quiet. "Running?"

"Yep," Dean said. He did a couple stretches, nothing major. He had read a few articles on the subject and most of them were of the opinion that you didn't need to stretch, that the myth that not stretching would cause damage was just that, a myth.

As he started running, May fell in along side of him, both of them starting at easy path. "I hope you don't mind having a running buddy, but I figure you know the area. When I run I can get into the zone and forget how to get back."

"Nope, it's cool," Dean said, although he hoped he was telling the truth. He'd found that some people were great to run with, they left you with your thoughts and let you enjoy your running. Other people could be annoying, thinking that they could multitask running and socializing and wanting to keep the pace slow enough so they could talk. That wasn't why Dean ran and he was hoping May was of the former, not the latter.

He was pleased to find out she was of the first group, not saying a word, just running along side of him. They started slowly, then gradually increased their speed, running through the mostly silent neighborhoods, the silence not making either feel alienated, but instead bringing a feeling of kinship. Dean knew the area by now, knew all the twists and turns the streets in the complex took. He would occasionally point left or right, silent indication of what direction they would take when they got to the end of the street. May would give a short nod, indicating that she got the message.

At one point, he found his body slipping into the zone, the place where his body just took over and nothing was an effort, when he no longer found himself thinking about his running, he just did it. When his brain cleared of thoughts and for awhile, he just _was_. He glanced over at May and saw a look of serenity on her face, and knew she was in the same place.

 _Meditation,_ he thought. _When you run and you get into this spot, it becomes meditation_.

He guided them both through the streets, through the maze of houses, a run he had taught himself last year, when he'd taken all that time off. Eventually, he guided them both towards the house again, and as they got closer, they slowed the pace down until they were walking, going into cool down.

"I'd run with you, any time," May said softly. "You get it."

"So do you," Dean said.

"Yeah, I found the zone," May admitted. "But I didn't find the heart beat."

"The heart beat?" Dean asked, puzzled.

"I grew up running in the city," May said. "I'd get up really early in the morning, when the city was quiet. They say New York is the City that never sleeps, and yeah, that's true, but it does get quiet. Four in the morning and it's just running on essential power. I'd run along, and when I fell into the zone, it would feel like the city had has a heart beat and I was running in time with that. Run for awhile, and as I picked up the pace, the city would be coming to life and I'd pace myself to match the heartbeat." They were walking by then, able to talk easily and she grinned, her face flushing. "You probably think I'm crazy."

"No," he said, and he was honest. "I think it sounds cool. I'll have to try it the next time I'm running in a city."

"I think it's easiest when you do it in the city you were born in or spent a lot of time in," May observed. "At least I always found it was easiest in New York."

* * *

When they got back to the house, Dean saw Ka'eo and a girl, standing on the street, right in front of the house. The girl looked to be about Ka'eo's age, thin but not skinny, with shoulder length hair that looked red in the light from the early morning. Not a copper red like Cinnamon or Neil, but a deep, rich red. _Auburn,_ Dean thought. She was studying the house intently, not frowning, but her brows were furrowed and she kept pushing on the nose of her glasses, even though they didn't appear to be slipping.

"Hey," he said, walking over to them. He had met a lot of Ka'eo's friends last year when they decorated the house, but he was pretty sure he hadn't met this girl.

"Hi, Dean," Ka'eo said, then motioned to the girl. "Dean, this is Chrissy, Chrissy, this is Dean Ambrose."

She turned and looked at him. "I know who you are," she said, an impish grin coming to her face as she held out her hand. "It's an honor to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too," Dean said, taking her hand and shaking it. "You folks are here pretty early, this officially doesn't start until about ten."

"She wanted to come over early," Ka'eo said.

"Er, do you have any plans for this?" Chrissy asked, making a sweeping motion that indicated all three houses. "Ka'eo said it didn't seem like it, he said you were just ordering a lot of lights."

"Chrissy is smart," Ka'eo proclaimed, nodding and looking impressed, as if he might be responsible for the young woman's intelligence. "She moved here this year and she's like, the smartest kid in the school."

"Stop it!" Chrissy said, flushing faintly pink at all the praise, which made Dean grin. She looked at him, and tried to look serious. "What I mean, is do you have a theme for the houses? Ka'eo said you'll be doing three houses, that you're trying for a huge display, and I get that, but are you going to have a theme? Some way to tie these three houses together, so people will realize it's one magnificent display, not just three separate ones?"

"Uh," Dean began and realized that he hadn't really given it much thought. All he had done was order all the lights he could get his hands on. "I thought we'd do the houses similar," he finally said, not wanting to appear as ignorant as he now felt. Why _hadn't_ he thought of this? "Last year, the kids did this thing where they outlined the roof shingles in lights. I've never seen it before, but it looked really cool. I figured we'd do that this year. Pete Spencer didn't do that."

"He did this year," Chrissy said. "We were just looking at his place."

"Asshole," Dean swore softly, then bit his lip and added, "uh, sorry."

"It's okay, I've heard worse," Chrissy said, waving her hand and dismissing the swearing. "To be honest, I've _said_ worse. But, you have to expect anything you did last year that he thinks will improve what he's doing, he's going to steal from you."

"Yeah," Dean said glumly. _I should have thought of that._

Chrissy could see his dismay and reached out and patted him on the arm, a gesture that surprised him, coming from someone younger, but he knew she was just trying to re-assure him. "Don't worry, we can still do it. And it will still look really good. But like I said, we were looking at his place and he's got a lot of everything there. He's got nativity scenes, he's got angels, Santa Clauses, snow men, he's got lots and lots of _stuff_ , but it's all just packed in there. There's no reason or logic to it. It's big and when it's lit, I'm sure it's flashy, but it's like… a garage sale. It's _haphazard._ "

"Yeah," Dean agreed, nodding. "It's stupid." This was safe ground.

"I think that if you have a theme, something that ties all three houses together, something that show this isn't just lights and stuff, it's telling a story, that it'll be much more impressive. I-I have a few ideas, if you want to hear them," she said, sounding almost timid, as if she was worried she might be overstepping her boundaries.

"Sure," Dean said. "But can we do it with the stuff we have, or do we have to run to the store?" He thought about Cinnamon, making breakfast and knew he was hungry, but if he had to go shopping instead, he'd do it.

"We can use what you bought," Chrissy said, confidently. "I saw what's in the shed, we can work with that. I'll be honest, Ka'eo told me about this awhile ago, told me that you didn't seem to have plans beyond lots of lights, so I've been thinking about it."

"Last year some girls set up a pond made of lights," Dean remembered. "Right in the center of the yard. We had those zombie reindeer drinking from it."

"Zombie reindeer?" Chrissy's head tipped to one side and her brows furrowed.

"You know, those white wire deer with the little white lights all over them?" Dean grinned. "I have a bunch of those and a few of the trees."

"We'll use that," Chrissy said. "And the deer, too. And one long stream of lights that will connect all three yards. That would help to show that it's one big project."

Dean nodded, feeling less embarrassed at his lack of thinking. "So, uh, what else did you have in mind?" he asked.

Chrissy explained her idea for the houses and as she did, Dean's grin got wider and wider. It was great, no, more than great, it was fantastic, it was-

" _Perfect_ ," Dean said. "Can we do that? _All_ of that?"

Chrissy nodded. "We just need some wire and colored tape. Ka'eo and I can go pick that up, but we should go now before Home Depot gets too busy. They're probably in a lull, the early shoppers are done and going to breakfast, but the late sleepers haven't stumbled in, yet."

Dean nodded. "Hang on a sec, let me get my wallet, I'll give you my credit card, you can use that to buy everything you need."

"Oh!" Chrissy looked pleased and Dean had the feeling she might have raided her piggy bank or brought a stash of money she had saved, thinking she'd have to buy the stuff and have Dean reimburse her. "Thank you, we'll bring the receipt back."

"Good," Dean said, turning to go into the house. He paused and looked at them. "Uh, do you guys need breakfast? I should have asked."

"Nope," Ka'eo said, shaking his head. "Mom gave us pancakes."

Dean nodded and went into the house. There was a lot of activity going on in the kitchen and Cinnamon told him he was just in time for breakfast. "I'll be right there," he said. He hurried into his bedroom, found his wallet on the nightstand. Grabbing it, he hurried outside and gave Chrissy his credit card.

"Ka'eo knows my number if there are any problems. And if you find other things you think we'll need when you get there, just grab them and put them on the card. Don't short yourself, if we get too much, we can return it."

* * *

It was about 9:30 and they were just finishing breakfast when Roman, Seth, and their families showed up. Neil was happy to see Leah and Payton and proudly announced that his friends Cory, Marcus, Javier and Samantha would be coming over too, and he was anxious for all of them to meet.

Kayla had barely said hello, when she eyed the coffee pot. "Are you sharing?" she asked.

"Help yourself," Cinnamon said.

"Rough night?" Dean asked.

"Wonderful night," Kayla responded, grabbing a cup out of the cupboard and filling it. "Just not a lot of sleep."

Seth beamed.

* * *

People from the neighborhood started to gather around 9:45, bringing ladders, hooking poles, and anything else they thought might help. Ka'eo and Chrissy returned, the back of Ka'eo's father's pick up truck loaded with spools of wire. She sought Dean out immediately and gave him back his credit card and the receipt.

"Did you get everything you needed?" he asked.

She nodded. "We bought some more lights too, just in case. I don't think we'll need them, but I wanted to make sure. They can be returned, I made sure to ask."

Dean nodded. "Smart idea." He tipped his head to one side. "You know, since the theme and all is your idea, I hope you don't mind, I'm going to put you in charge of making sure it happens. I mean, I've got people doing the decorating on my house and stuff. I guess some of the kids got most of the Wilson's and the Karume's house done already, but our house hasn't been done. But we can handle that. But I want you to grab everyone you need to do the other stuff. The only thing is that Jasmine is here, and she's the one who did the whole lake and Reindeer thing last year. I don't want her to feel like she's been pushed aside."

"She hasn't," Chrissy said, "If she thought of the water with the lights, I'll have her do that for all three yards. She can even set up the same scene. Don't worry, Mr. Ambrose. I won't let you down."

"I'm _more_ worried that you're calling me Mr. Ambrose," Dean said, a smile playing across his mouth. "I'm Dean."

Chrissy flushed slightly. "All right, Dean," she said. "Don't worry, I'll handle it. I have strong organizational skills."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me at all."

* * *

Dean would soon discover that Chrissy not only had strong organizational skills, she was also a natural born leader. She gathered up the kids from the high school that had come along, there were a lot of them, many more than last year, and started organizing them into groups. Ka'eo stuck close by her, obviously taking the role of second-in-command with good grace. Although, Dean had a feeling Chrissy could have told him to put on a pointed cap and be the Court Jester for the day, and Ka'eo would have done it.

"I think he likes her," Dean murmured to Cinnamon.

"Gee, really?" Cinnamon said, her eyes sparkling. "What gave you the first clue?"

"Do you think she likes him?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure," Cinnamon admitted. "She's very cool, very collected. Rare qualities in a teenage girl. But, I don't think she'd be adverse to the idea of Ka'eo asking her to go out for pizza or something."

"Hmm," was all Dean said.

End of Part II

* * *

 **Author's Notes : Yes, I have brought May and her sister into this world. While they won't be making a huge splash in this story, I wanted to do this because, well May is my character. There is no reason to believe she wouldn't exist in this world as well as in A Wrestling God's world too. Of course, the May in this world would have never dated Seth and thus her life here could end up taking on a very different path. But I wanted to leave the option open. It isn't that I didn't enjoy playing in AWG's world, I did and I'm honored he let me do it, but he has his plans and his ideas. I realize that having May only exist in that world was restricting myself to what I would like to see in May's future. And, I was taking the risk of restricting him. So, I've brought May and her sister into the Cinnamon universe and I hope that in the future I'll be able to write about both her and her sister in this world, too.**

 **Special thanks to :**

 **AeonBlue : I should have thanked her in Pt. One, but better late than never. Girlfriend, I'm thanking you in two ways, and you know the second since you've read this far. I hope you like it. But readers, you don't know how much help she's been, especially for this part and the following parts. She's held my hand and given me ideas that I desperately needed. She's a brilliant writer, you should check out her stuff. Seriously, she's one of the best writers on this site and you owe it to yourself to check out her work. The story she just finished, _The Tau Hypothesis_ is an emotional journey and is easily one of the best things I've ever read. Not one of the best things I've read on this site, or even one of the best piece of fanfiction I've ever read, it is one of the best things I've ever read, _period._ And trust me, I have done a lot of reading.**

 **To Everyone who Read this : Thank you.**

 **To Everyone who Favored or Followed this: Double thank you.**

 **To Everyone who Reviewed : Triple thanks with a side of fudge. (I make mean fudge, so yes, I'm telling you that you are wonderful) I said this story had no strings attached, and I continue to follow that, so the fact that you took the time out of your busy days (Holidays are coming, so I know how busy you likely are) to write a review means so very much to me. I appreciate it, and I will write and thank all of you individually, but sadly, I have to work today and I wanted to get this up before I left.**

 **To Everyone reading this: Thank you again. You're awesome.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Miracle of Lights**

 _Pt III_

At noon on the dot, Bob's BBQ showed up and started setting up in the back yard. Dean had brought the barrels out of the shed, and the soda and beer he had bought. They had brought plenty of ice and told him they would set it up for him. Dean went out in the front to let everyone know that drinks would be available soon and food within the next hour or so.

"Just please, be careful," Cinnamon cautioned. "I know we're having a party tonight, but I don't want to see anyone getting too tipsy and climbing up and down ladders. I know I'm a paramedic, but I'm off duty, right now."

People laughed, but everyone old enough to drink assured her they would stay in control. Several of the WVW wrestlers who had shown up, joked with her, calling her, mom, but you could tell it was in the most affectionate terms.

Even though the neighborhood had been assured that all food would be provided for the day, a few people still brought over some dishes. Cinnamon set up a folding table on the front porch for neighborhood contributions, so as not to disturb the folks from Bob's and people would go up and help themselves as they wished.

Seth had been helping put lights on the roof with a group of other people, mostly friends of Ka'eo, and Raven, when he saw Roman by the neighborhood food table, happily digging into a dish that looked like shrimp and some type of dip. Seth's stomach gave a gurgle, happily reminding him that he hadn't had any breakfast and he was getting hungry. "I'm going to grab something to eat," he told Raven.

"Good idea," Raven said, with an impish grin. "I've been listening to your stomach giving me opinions all morning."

He looked at her, eyes flashing with embarrassment. "Really?"

She nodded, still grinning. "It's okay, this is the time of year for an organ recital after all. But yeah, seriously, get some food, we've got this covered."

He climbed down the ladder and went over to the front porch, where now Dean and Roman were together. Roman was digging into the shrimp, a look of contentment on his face. "God, this is good," he commented when Seth was closer.

"What is it?" Seth asked.

"Coconut shrimp with divinity dip," Roman said. "Lokalia made it. It's wonderful." There was a huge platter with two bowls of dip in the center, one white, one a color somewhere between pink and red, both bowls surrounded with fried shrimp. Roman dipped one into the red dip and popped it in his mouth. "And divine it is."

Seth took one of the shrimp and tried the white dip. Except for the color, both dips looked identical, very fluffy with bits of pineapple. When Seth put the shrimp in his mouth and started chewing, he was rewarded by crunchy, chewy, a lot of sweet and a slight bit of tangy. It was wonderful, and Seth could see this being a dessert it was so delicious. He took another shrimp and eyed the red dip, thinking that it must be flavored with cherries to give it the red color. He enthusiastically dug the second shrimp into the red dip, already anticipating what it would taste like, sweet with the tang from cream cheese, pineapple and the snap only cherries could bring.

"Uh, Seth," Dean started to say.

Seth paused, shrimp part way to his mouth. "What?" He tried not to sound impatient, but he was really hungry and so looking forward to this.

"Nothing." Dean said, smiling. "I forgot."

What Seth hadn't seen was Roman kicking Dean in the foot sending him the signal to keep quiet. Seth popped the shrimp into his mouth, heavily coated with dip and bit down on it.

His efforts were rewarded by a blast of heat that coated his entire mouth, instantly putting his taste buds into overdrive, making his eyes water and his nose run as if instead of shrimp, he had decided to put a red-hot coal in his mouth and now his body was trying to put it out. Nothing prepared him for how spicy it was. Seth had eaten a lot of spicy dishes in his life, but this wasn't spicy, this was the ninth level of hell, this was molten lava, laced in cream cheese and pineapple. It did more than burn his mouth, it set his whole body blazing. Even worse, when the heat first hit, he had inhaled, rather than exhaled, pulling some of the dip down his throat where it coated it, and set it blazing. He was barely able to spit out the shrimp onto the porch floor, but the dip still clung to his mouth.

Roman looked at him and tossed his head back, laughing. "Thai bird chillies," he explained. "I asked her if she could make something a little spicier and this is what she came up with."

Seth couldn't think, he couldn't talk, all he could do was stand there for a moment, as the fire coated his mouth, thickened by cream cheese. He knew he should be furious at Roman, knew that Dean was trying to warn him and had been stopped, and while a tiny part of him wanted to kill Roman, he also knew he could do nothing until this inferno was stopped. Without thinking, he reached out and snatched Roman's bottle of beer, right from his hand, and began to guzzle it.

"Hey, I just opened that!" Roman protested. "Get your own bottle!"

But Seth wasn't listening. He was pouring the beer down his throat, yet the fire raged, even though his brain was telling him that liquid should put the fire out. He finished the beer, still feeling his throat, tongue, lips, and cheeks scorching and burning. As if his mouth had taken over his entire body, he tossed the empty bottle aside and ripped Dean's bottle from his hand, gulping that down. Dean didn't object, but just laughed. And when that was finished, he tossed that aside and turned to the barrel of ice and drinks that was on the porch, pulling a tall can Fosters from it's bed of ice, opening it, and began guzzling that, barely able to see as his eyes kept running and running, making him look as if he was mourning the biggest loss of his life.

"What's going on?" Cinnamon asked, looking alarmed as she headed up on the porch.

"Seth just took a nice big helping of spicy dip," Roman said, laughing as he watched Seth suffer. Dean too was laughing as Seth gulped down the beer in record time.

"Oh, god!" Cinnamon said, hurrying for the front door. "Seth, hang on, let me get you some milk, that will cut the spice better than beer!"

Seth was beyond hearing, all his senses were focused on the fire he imagined burning in his mouth. Whenever he exhaled, he expected to be shooting flames like some dragon. He finished the can of Fosters and grabbed another beverage from the barrel, barely noticing it was actually a bottle of vodka put in there to keep it chilled. He opened it and started drinking from it.

"Whoa!" Roman called out, and tried to grab the bottle from him. It was one thing to play a prank, but Roman knew Seth hadn't had breakfast that morning, and had just guzzled about fifty ounces of beer. He was already doomed to be tipsy, now he was heading right into cocked up. He reached out to grab the bottle, but Seth turned away. Dean pressed into action and managed to get the bottle from him, even though Seth fought it. Roman moved over and blocked the barrel from Seth, reaching in and grabbing a soda and handing it to him instead. Seth grabbed for it, but instead of drinking it he pressed it to his throat, as if trying to put out the fire that had leaked out of his pores onto his skin.

Other people had begun gathering around, wondering what was going on, but Seth barely noticed them. He was now still feeling the burn, but had the added feeling of being almost instantly drunk. He stumbled backwards, still holding the soda to his throat and managed to get by the stairs. He lost footing and fell down the five stairs, almost flipping over. As more people rushed to help him, he staggered to his feet. A group of teenage girls had gathered near the porch to work on organizing long strands of blue and white lights, attempting to arrange them into what would become the stream and pond of lights. Seth barely saw them, his drunk brain telling him that if he got away from the table, from the porch, the fire that raged in his mouth would end. He staggered around, his foot catching in the lights that were lying there, causing him to trip. Still holding the can of soda, he struggled to his feet. As people were pressing in, trying to help him before he did further damage, he jerked away from them. Part of his brain knew he was making a bad situation much worse, but most of his brain was too drunk and too focused on the pain to make sense of anything and his brain kept insisting he had to get as far away from the porch as possible. Still clutching the soda as if it were a lifeline, he started trying to get to his feet, managing to further tangle himself in the lights, which were all switched on to test the strands.

He finally managed to rise to his feet, looking like a horrible blue and white Christmas decoration come to life. His throat was still screaming and part of him remembered the can of soda and he opened it. The fall down the stairs and to the ground had shaken it, and it sprayed all over himself, the lights and a couple people who were gathered to try to help him, one of them being Payton. "Uncle Seth, calm down!" she cried out.

A part of Seth's brain heard her and wanted to obey, but he couldn't get it to register. Most of his mind was too focused on the burning pain in his mouth, he could feel blisters forming on his lips and tongue. He barely realized he was wrapped up in Christmas lights and he stumbled around the yard, mindless of the shrieking going on.

"Mr. Rollins, _stop!"_ Jasmine yelled in dismay as she watched him ruining all the work that had been done that morning, preparing the strings of lights to be transformed into the stream and pond. There was no way the lights Seth was wrapped in were going to survive this attack. He was stepping on them, smashing the bulbs, destroying the sockets they set into.

"He owes you for those lights," Roman said to Dean, still chuckling.

"Yeah, he does," Dean agreed, nodding.

Cinnamon heard them, as she was coming out of the house with a half gallon container of milk and a container of sour cream. She looked at both of them. "You better not!" she threatened, "this is _your_ fault."

" _My_ fault?" Dean stared at her. " _I_ didn't tell him to eat the dip."

"No, but I'll bet you both didn't try to _stop_ him, either."

"Nope," Roman said, trying to keep a straight face, then gave up and burst into peels of laughter.

"Oh!" Cinnamon spun on her heel and headed to Seth.

It took another twenty minutes to calm Seth down. Kayla and Payton both were near him, trying to talk to him, and trying to untangle him from the lights. Seth was still croaking, but at least he wasn't running around, probably because the strings of lights had pretty much put a stop to that. Cinnamon went over and took a big spoonful of sour cream. "Seth, open your mouth!" she commanded. When Seth did, she put the sour cream in his mouth. "Eat that!"

At first it looked like Seth might spit it out, but then he swallowed it. Cinnamon fed him another spoonful while Kayla and Payton frantically pulled at the strings of lights, trying to remove them. Seth had struggled so much that it was almost impossible to figure out where one strand ended and another began. Even worse, it was obvious he was drunk, too, but he was at least allowing Cinnamon to feed him the sour cream, realizing the cold dairy was cutting the heat that was still raging.

"Aw, shit, I suppose we need to help him," Roman said calmly.

"Yeah, I guess we do," Dean agreed, nodding slowly.

"He is our brother, after all," Roman pointed out, still not moving.

"Yeah, he is," Dean agreed again.

They still took a bit before looking around and finally found some wire cutters in the area Chrissy and her crew were using. They took them and went over to Seth, who was swaying slightly, but accepting the sour cream Cinnamon was feeding him, his eyes still red, although it was hard to tell if it was because of the hot dip or the quick and excessive intake of alcohol.

"Don't you _dare_ make it worse!" Kayla snapped, seeing them.

"Would we do _that?"_ Roman asked, feigning innocence. "Nah, we're just here to help." He held up the wire cutters.

"Yes, you would," Kayla said, snatching them out of his hand. "I'll do it." She turned and started cutting the wires away from Seth, who was finally calmed down enough, his throat no longer burning. When his left hand was free, Cinnamon handed him the milk, instructing him to drink it.

As Kayla and Cinnamon worked to free Seth, Roman and Dean stepped back, getting the idea they _really_ needed to stay out of this. As they were watching, Raven walked over to them, looking at her phone. "This is pretty funny," she said.

"What are you watching?" Roman asked, looking at her.

"Seth," Raven said, not taking her eyes off her phone.

Roman and Dean exchanged looks with each other, then looked at her. "Did you _catch_ that?" Dean asked.

" _All_ of it?" Roman added.

"I didn't get the very beginning, but I got enough of it," Raven said, grinning.

"We _have_ to put this on You tube," Roman said.

"Already done." Raven responded. "And there's a link on my twitter and facebook pages."

"Good," Roman said, pulling his own phone out of his back pocket. "We have to make this go viral."

It was obvious when Seth was finally settled and no longer needing to be chugging milk, that he wasn't in much condition to work. Lack of sleep and food, along with guzzling so much alcohol so quickly, had put him in a state where going on the roof would have been a danger, and even on the ground, he wasn't much use. He was singing Christmas carols at the top of his lungs, trying without much success to help Jasmine and her group work in remaking the stream and pond he had destroyed.

"He needs to eat something more substantial than one shrimp and then sleep it off," Cinnamon said to Dean. She was watching Seth, looking grim as Payton was following him about asking if he was going to be all right.

"Do you have any soup or something?" Dean asked, feeling a little bit bad at this turn of events, even if he was checking his phone every few minutes to see how well the video was doing. Already, one of Raven's brothers had gotten his hands on it, and had added Yakety Sax as a soundtrack, which was making the popularity explode even more.

"I have some beef vegetable soup in the refrigerator," Cinnamon admitted.

"Okay, I'll take care of it."

Dean managed to lure Seth into the house with the promise of soup. Drunk off his ass he was, but his body knew he needed something to eat and he just hadn't made it to the BBQ in the back yard. He allowed himself to be lead into the house. At first Payton wanted to tag along, clearly very concerned about Seth, but Dean convinced her the best thing she could do was to stay with Neil, Leah, and the other kids.

He got a bowl of soup and some bread into Seth, then led him into the master bedroom. "Lay down for a bit, buddy," he suggested.

Seth flopped down on his stomach onto the made up bed, "I'm so fucking drunk," he proclaimed, turning his head to look at Dean. "I probably look like an asshole."

"You're no worse than Roman and I have been a million times," Dean said, philosophically. "Get some sleep, you'll be fine. I'm going to put a bucket by the bed in case you get sick. And I'll put some water by the bed. If you wake up, drink it down. Just sleep it off, buddy."

"Okay," Seth mumbled, his eyes already closing.

By the time Dean got Seth's shoes off, and threw an afghan over him, Seth was already snoring. Dean smiled and shook his head, remember how many times Seth had done similar things for him and Roman when the three of them were traveling everywhere together, sharing hotel rooms.

* * *

Outside, things were continuing, everyone working hard, but still enjoying themselves. Jamal arrived and told May and Raven that their car would be read to roll tomorrow morning, before noon. May and Raven took it well, knowing that there was no way they would get to New York, but grateful that the car could be fixed within their budget.

The three houses were pretty much decorated, so everyone was concentrating their efforts on the yards, helping Jasmine with the stream and pond, or helping Chrissy with her ideas. Kuende, Ka'eo's father was helping her closely with one of the displays, which seemed to be annoying Ka'eo.

Part of Dean knew they were all a little crazy. This was a project most folks would spend months on, and they were doing it in a day. He wasn't sure if it would all be accomplished, but he hoped they would get enough done to at least show Pete Spencer that all his outdated ways were just that, outdated. This was not the world he'd been born into, a world where being white granted you privileges that you were so able to take for granted, that you never even thought of them as privileges.

Dean wanted two things out of this, a display of lights the neighborhood could get behind and a way to show Pete Spencer that his neighborhood was full of people. Not different types of people, but just people. People who, when motivated, could work together and do great things.

* * *

Even thought the weather spoke of early fall, the sun still insisted it was winter and by five o'clock, it was getting dark and the job still wasn't finished. Dean half expected people to begin drifting off, even though he had rented spotlights so they could keep working. To his delighted surprise, the only people who left were people who had to work. And other people in the neighborhood who had worked earlier that day, were arriving to take their place. A frenzied burst of activity came from folks. Those who were hungry ran into the back for hamburgers, hotdogs, or barbequed ribs, gulping them down so they could get back to work, or even bringing paper plates with them to work areas so they could keep working.

Seth woke up too, and if he wasn't completely sober, he was at least functional, and he came out to help. Nobody teased him, nobody showed him that he had attained a great deal of new internet popularity in the last few hours, those things could wait. Right now, everyone's attention was focused on getting this job done.

And, as if it were a Christmas miracle, granted one born of hard work, at seven, they _were_ done, or at least done enough for testing. There was still clean up to be done, but that could wait. Chuck, who had been working frantically since the moment he arrived, most of it hunched over his keyboard, took charge of turning on the lights. "Everyone, go across the street," he suggested.

All the lights were powered to go through Dean's place, powered to go through the emergency generator he had installed earlier that year. There had been a storm that had knocked power out of the neighborhood for almost a week. While Cinnamon had assured Dean this was the first time they had ever lost power for that long, Dean was determined that it would be the last time as well. Overruling her objections, he had a propane emergency generator installed. It had yet to be of any real use, but Dean was thrilled to find out that it could be powered to operate all the lights for all three houses without having to worry about drawing power from the grid.

Everyone went across the road to wait. The rented flood lights went off first, bathing the neighborhood in almost total darkness. Everyone was silent, waiting, hoping, that this would all work.

Then, Chuck started flipping the switches and bit by bit, the lights started coming on, first the ones around the houses, then the trees, then the displays began lighting up. There were collective "oohs" and "ahhs" with each part that lit up.

While Dean held his breath, figuring something had to go wrong, that some strands of lights had to just not be working, because the odds would say that would happen, he found his fears were ungrounded. Maybe it was another Christmas miracle, maybe it was because the lights had all been tested before being hung, maybe it was that none of the lights used were more than a year old, and most were bought this year, but ever single strand, every bulb lit brightly.

"Oh, wow!" Neil murmured when all the lights were on. And Dean thought that summed it up, perfectly, _oh, wow!_

On the far side of the Wilson lawn, the beginning of the display, was huge wire pillar candle, done in red lights and yellow and white twinkling lights for the candle flame. Arranged in a circle around the pillar candle, were thinner, red candles, with the same flickering lights to represent flame. Thirty thinner, shorter candles were arranged around the bigger one, one to represent each house on the street, even Pete Spencer's. It was a representative of the tradition of Winter Solstice. Normally the tradition was for families, the pillar to represent the family as a whole, and the smaller tapers to represent each individual member, but Dean thought that for the outdoors, this worked just fine. The large candle represented the neighborhood, the smaller ones represented each family. _Because when it comes down to it, this neighborhood is like a family,_ he thought. _Even Pete Spencer, like it or not. He's the grumpy, bastard of an uncle that nobody really wants hanging around, but he's still part of the family._

In the front law of the Wilson's had a Nativity scene. A wire Joseph and Mary, wire stable, wire manger. There was no wire baby Jesus, but the inside of the manger had been lined with white lights, that made it glow as if there was a celestial presence in the manager. Which, Dean had to admit was even better than a wire Jesus. The glow seemed to be more in the spirit than to try to make a wire lighted baby. Even Joseph, Mary and the Angel had no faces, lights being used to represent cloaks, heads bent to look upon the miracle of the Son of God.

In between the Wilson and Ambrose houses was a display of a Menorah and a Dreidel. There had been a bit of discussion about that between Dean and Chrissy. Technically, Chrissy felt the Hanukkah scene belonged before the Nativity scene. Dean had agreed with her that _technically_ it did, but that the Wilson's were good church going Protestants who, while appreciated that different religions had different customs, might feel a tad uncomfortable having an obviously Jewish display right smack in their front yard. Chrissy had frowned at first, looking as if she might argue the point, then finally shrugged. "Hanukkah was actually one of the minor holidays until Christmas started becoming The Beast That Cannot Be Fed," she finally said. "So, maybe it works this way."

On the front lawn of Dean and Cinnamon's house it was typical Santa Christmas. A "Santa's house" made of wires and lights, all surrounded by white lights placed to look like snow. A wire Santa and Mrs. Clause were decorated in lights of white and red, Santa's belt and boots done in the darkest blue lights that could be found. Done in green and red lights were a couple of elves, posed to look as if they were frolicking about in the light created "snow." In an added touch of whimsy, there was even a wire polar bear, done in white lights, holding a red bottle in his paws. _It's fitting,_ Dean thought. _Coca-cola has done a lot to shape how we see modern Christmas_.

Between the Ambrose and Karume house was a display of "paper" lanterns, done in wire and bright, colorful lights woven into brilliant patterns to represent Diwali, The Festival of Lights. "It spiritually signifies the victory of light over darkness, knowledge over ignorance, good over evil, and hope over despair," Chrissy had explained when she suggested the idea. "It's a Hindu festival, normally celebrated in the late fall, but I think it fits."

Dean had agreed and seeing the brilliant lanterns he was glad. _Knowledge over ignorance is_ _ **always**_ _good thing to celebrate_.

In the center of the Karume lawn was a display celebrating Kwanzaa, a "candle holder" with three green candles, three red candles and a deep blue one in the center. There was also a wire ear of corn and various other wire vegetables, all lit up brightly, along with a wire challis, aka a Unity Cup. The display rested on a mat of lights.

Behind all the scenes was the stream of lights, starting from the Wilson's house, running merrily through all three yards. The illusion of water given by blinking blue and white lights. The stream ran to the side of the Karume house that bordered Pete Spencer's land, separated by a tall fence. There the lights were covering the lawn on the side of the house, looking as if the stream had widened into an ocean. The final display was of an outrigger canoe being lead by Dolphins, and containing a Santa Clause in traditional Hawaiian dress, along with elves, who also wore Hawaiian clothing.

Dean had seen it being built, bit by bit, piece by piece and thought he'd have a good idea of how it would look when it was done, but nothing prepared him for the full on spectacular. All the different ways people celebrated winter all put together, and with the stream and the way the houses were decorated, it all managed to come together. _It doesn't matter what you believe_ , Dean thought. _This time of year, we all should come together_.

He realized he heard sniffling, and turned. Cinnamon was looking from house to house and in the glow of the lights, he saw tears spilling down her face. "Are you all right?" he asked. She nodded, still sniffling. "Is something wrong? Don't you like it?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I _don't_ like it, I _love_ it. It's _perfect!"_ She turned and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her, burying her face in his neck. "Just like you," she whispered. "It's perfect and I _love_ it."

He hugged her back, feeling his cheeks grow warm in her praise. "It's not just me," he said, "Chrissy thought of most of it."

"I know, but you bought all the lights, made all the arrangements," Cinnamon reminded him. "And everyone helped. It's… amazing. And it belongs to _all_ of us, the _whole_ street. And we _all_ deserve credit for what we did, but _you_ made it happen."

Dean had no clue what to say that wouldn't sound like he was blowing his own horn, so he just hugged her back, tightly.

"Only one thing missing," a male voice said.

Dean and Cinnamon drew away and Cinnamon turned to the sound of the voice, grinning. "Oh, really? What's wrong, Arturo?"

It was the neighbor who lived on the corner of the street, on the other side of the Wilson's, "You need something to show how Mexico celebrates Christmas. A scene from Las Posadas, the nine day journey." He grinned, his teeth catching the reflection off the multitude of holiday lights, causing them to glitter. "Lots of Mexican families 'round here, it would be nice to be represented."

"You should have spoken up earlier," Dean said, grinning back. "Tell you what, next year we'll include your house in this, if you're willing and we'll make your front yard into a Las Ponsadas display that will start the whole show. Will that work?"

Arturo's grin widened. "So, you're going to make this a yearly thing?"

"You betcha," Dean said. "And I want to get bigger and bigger each year. Maybe eventually get every house in the neighborhood decorated all with different themes. Christmas from around the world and other winter holidays." His grin stayed on, but his voice became serious. "Are you with me? I'll supply the lights, you just have to donate the outside of your house and lawn."

"I was just kidding," Arturo said, his voice becoming thoughtful, "But if you're serious? I'm willing to donate the yard. My time too. I'll even bring some of my cousins and family over to help."

"Deal," Dean said, holding out his hand and Arturo Trevino shook it, the two men sealing the deal and signaling that next year, this would happen again. Dean knew now he was committed, which was fine, he'd have more time to plan thing out then.

"Hey!" Chuck called out, "Are you ready for the light show?"

"Sure," Dean called in response. The music for the light show would be broadcast on low frequency FM, so people who wanted to hear it could listen on their car stereos so as not to disturb the whole neighborhood. But tonight, for the block party, there were speakers and a radio set up.

Chuck finished some frantic thumping on his keyboard, then he went running across the street to join everyone. "If I did it all right, show should start in a minute or so." He looked at Dean, grinning. "We've got eight songs, one that fits each display and one… well let's just say we have another one. They're short versions, so all eight songs will take about fifteen minutes. I have it timed so that the light show starts on the top of the hour between 6 and 9 at night. You'll probably want to alter the start time, later, I'll show you how to do that."

"Why would I want to do that?" Dean asked.

"Because _everyone_ starts their light show on the top of the hour," Chuck said, shaking his head. "Old Man Spencer does. Here's the problem, everyone is trying to catch these light shows, but if they all start at the same time, you have to try to get to these places on the top of the hour. If you start yours on the half, it gives people a chance to get here."

"Speaking of Old Man Spencer," Dean said, looking over at the house. "He hasn't turned his lights on, yet."

"He's not home," Cinnamon said. "I saw him leave earlier with his wife and I haven't seen him come back."

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped when the music started.

Dean would later find out that the first song to play was an instrumental version of Ring Out, Solstice Bells, originally done by Jethro Tull. That was followed by Joy to the World, then the Chanukah song, and while each song played celebrated one part of the display, the light show encompassed all of them, while highlighting the display they represented. Dean figured the eighth would be a general song, something like Winter Wonderland or Jingle Bells that didn't officially celebrate anything but winter time. Instead, after the seventh song finished, he heard a familiar screeching sound and suddenly his own theme music started playing. He stared for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"Do you like it, Mr. Ambrose?" Chuck asked.

"Call me, Dean!" Dean said, through a mouthful of laughter. "And I love it! Thank you!"

When Dean's music finished, it seemed to signal everyone that the decorating was over and the party had officially begun. When the music stopped, a lot of people scurried about to clean up the yards of unused strings of lights and wires and to make sure tools went back to their proper owners. People who lived on the street ran to their houses to grab snacks and drinks for the party.

Soon enough the party really got started. It wasn't a rowdy party, more of a get together, people enjoying talking with each other, appreciating the company and camaraderie, the unity of being part of a big project that had gone well. While there was plenty of alcohol, Dean noticed that no one seemed to be drinking to excess, or at least that's what he thought. As it turned out one person had been indulging a little _too_ much.

End of Part III

* * *

 **Author's Notes: I want to thank everyone who's Read, F/F, and reviewed this story so far. And I want to especially thank AeonBlue for giving me the idea of various holidays around the world. It seemed like the perfect way to have a display everyone could appreciate and to really piss the hell out of Pete Spencer.**

 **Tomorrow I'll be posting the last part of this. I hope everyone who's started this story has stayed with it. Thank you again!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Miracle of Lights**

 _Part IV_

It was just before eight when a car came rolling up the street. Before Dean even sensed the crowd stiffening, he _knew_ this was Pete Spencer. It was a given that everyone on the street was here, it only made sense it would be him. He drove by slowly, and while it was too dark out to see inside his car, Dean had the impression the man was probably gasping, mouth open like a fish out of water.

He pulled into his driveway and drove right into his garage. Dean waited, thinking he would go inside and turn on his own lights display, but that didn't happen. Dean waited a few, and when the outside of his house stayed dark, he shrugged. _Maybe he's going to wait a couple days before he lights up. Maybe he's still got to finish a few things_. He shrugged and turned his mind and body back to the party.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, he was talking with Roman when he saw someone heading, no _stalking_ towards him. Even though it was too dark to see exactly who it was, Dean could tell they were pissed, just by the way they walked. He turned to Roman, who he had been talking with. "I think we're going to get Pete's opinion on our lights real soon," he murmured, then called out, "Hey, Mr. Spencer, did you come to join the party?"

Pete stalked over, stopping when he was in front of him. "What do you think you're _doing?"_ he demanded.

"Having a party," Dean said, holding up his cup of beer. "Don't you recognize a party when you see one?"

"Probably not," Roman said. "Never been invited to one before."

"You can't have a party!" Pete snapped, ignoring Roman's remarks for now. "You're making too much noise, causing too much of a disturbance!"

"Says who?" Dean demanded. People were starting to come over to them, drawn by the noise.

"Says me!" Pete spat, and even in the colored glow from just the display lights, you could see his face was twisted into a mask of rage. "You're creating a public nuisance." He jerked his hand around, indicating the three houses with their light displays. "What the hell _is_ this?"

"A light display," Cinnamon said, moving over so she was standing by Dean. "You know, like _you_ do every year?"

"I don't do _anything_ like this!" Pete said, his voice rising even higher, which of course was causing more people to gather around to see what this was all about.

"No," Ka'eo called out, coming from the back yard. "Not _you_ , Mr. Spencer." He walked up behind Dean, his walk less sure footed and Dean could smell the beer coming from him and inwardly groaned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pete Spencer demanded, staring at Ka'eo.

"Nothing," Ka'eo said, defiantly, "Your display is always quaint and _tasteful!"_

Roman burst out laughing and Dean wanted to join in, but he didn't dare. Instead he scanned the gathering crowd for Ka'eo's parents, who luckily, didn't seem to be there. Inwardly, Dean prayed that whatever they were doing, it was fascinating enough that they wouldn't come out and see their boy, their _under age boy_ , was drunk.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pete said, staring at Ka'eo.

"You know what it means!" Ka'eo shot back. "Mr. King of the Fucking Christmas lights. Always thinking you're better than the rest of us, always thinking you're the man 'cause you get on that stupid Festival of Lights website. Well guess what? You may still get on, but you aren't the best display on the street anymore! We've got three houses making one display that makes yours look nothing but quaint and _tasteful!"_ The tasteful came out almost as a scream. Pete Spencer had a habit of calling all the smaller displays on the street "Quaint" and "Tasteful." Everyone knew that when it came to Christmas lights, quaint and tasteful were _not_ compliments.

"Oh yeah?" Pete looked up, pointing down the street where a police car was rolling up slowly, driving carefully. "We'll see how long this lasts now, won't we?"

"Oh crap," Cinnamon muttered.

"Fuck this!" Ka'eo yelled. "And fuck _you_ , too, Pete Spencer, sir! You got my cousin arrested for nothing. You are the biggest _dick_ on the planet!"

Dean turned to Roman as the police car made it's way closer. "Roman, take Ka'eo in the back, keep him away from the cops and away from his parents, okay?"

Roman nodded. "Got it." He turned and put his arm around Ka'eo's shoulders, leading him off. "Buddy, let's go talk."

"I don't wanna talk!" Ka'eo burst out, "I wanna punch Pete Spencer in the fucking _mouth!"_

"Yeah? Long line for that," Roman said, keeping his arm firmly on his shoulders, not letting him escape, forcing him to go to the back yard. "C'mon, I'll explain to you how to do a Superman punch, so if you ever get the chance to punch him in the mouth, you know, someday in the _very far_ future, you'll be prepared."

Roman had just managed to get Ka'eo out of the yard as the cops pulled up to the front of the house and slowly got out of the car, a double blessing as Mr. and Mrs. Karume had also managed to join the crowd, fortunately, not soon enough to catch Ka'eo's drunken ramblings. Dean bit his lip nervously. He had contacted the local police department and made arrangements to have an off duty police officer come and direct traffic, starting Monday, when (hopefully) the house would be listed in the Festival of Lights website. The Festival people were coming tomorrow night to check it out. With the house being off the beaten path, Dean had felt he didn't need to have anyone directing traffic tonight, and so far he was proving to be right, no one but Pete Spencer and the cops had been on the street since early evening. Dean sure hoped there wasn't going to be any trouble.

"I'm glad you arrived!" Pete Spencer said, looking gratefully to the officers. "I want you to make him shut down his display, now!"

"Now, why would we want to do that?" One of the officer asked and before Pete could answer, he turned and looked at Dean. "This is one _beautiful_ display you have here."

"Thank you," Dean said, "It's Winter Holidays from around the world. It was Chrissy's idea," he paused, scanning the crowd for the young woman, but not seeing her, he shrugged. "She's not here right now. But, she's one of the high school girls. She came up with the idea and really helped make it happen."

"Well, it sure is impressive," The other officer said. He held out his hand to Dean. "Mark Knowles, Mr. Ambrose, I'm a big fan. My partner over there, is David Shore, we're both big fans."

Dean found himself exhaling in sharp relief. _Thank **God** for wrestling_ , he thought as he shook both officer's hands. "Thank you," he said.

"Who cares!" Pete Spencer snapped. "I want this display shut _down!_ It's too bright and it's too distracting."

"Doesn't seem distracting to me, Mr. Spencer," David Shore said. "I mean, it's a lot of light, but it's all very well done. I'm not hearing any loud music, unlike we used to hear coming from _your_ light displays, until you finally learned how to hook it up so the music broadcast on FM radio, instead of having those huge speakers in your yard."

"That was me," Chuck said, working his way out from the center of the crowd. "He would have kept those speakers blaring if I hadn't told him you can broadcast it."

"I figured someone told him," Mark said, nodding thoughtfully.

"It's _still_ too distracting!" Pete insisted. " _Three_ houses? All done up with all these displays? It's going to be _too_ bright and flashy."

"Really?" David looked around. "I think we have the whole neighborhood here and none of them seem to be objecting." He looked at Dean. "Looks like you're having a little block party, am I right?"

"Pretty much" Dean agreed, starting to feel the knot of tension that had been building in him since Pete Spencer arrived melting. Ka'eo was safely out of sight and these police officers didn't seem at all upset with the light display. "We all worked our butts off today, getting this display ready and we're just relaxing, having a little party to celebrate."

"Seems like a good reason to me," David said, his voice neutral, even pleasant. "And it seems like a quiet, civilized get together. In fact, I'd say the only thing making it unpleasant is Mr. Spencer over here. Is that true?"

"Yes," Cinnamon said, her chin raising in defiance. "We weren't bothering _anyone_ and he came charging over here, onto my-our property, demanding we get rid of this display."

"Is that a fact?" Mark observed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He turned to Mr. Spencer. "Now, why would you want to get rid of such a _wonderful_ display? I'm seeing all types of things here. Christmas, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, _all_ holidays people celebrate this time of year. It's a nice display, celebrating all sorts of _different_ cultures."

"It's diverse," David agreed, "And we _like_ that."

Pete had a look about him as if he had once been filled with hot air and someone had stuck a pin in him. But he wasn't going to give up yet. "It's still too big," he tried to argue. "It's too over the top."

"Says the man who used to have the biggest display on the street," David remarked. "The man who blasted his light show and when neighbors complained, told them that the sound laws said he had until 10:00 at night to make as much noise as he wanted, even though Jamal and his wife had a brand new baby that needed to sleep." David turned and seeing Jamal in the crowd, smiled warmly. "How's JJ doing, by the way?"

"Good," Jamal said evenly. "He's with Lydia, visiting his grandmother."

"Is she all right?" David asked, a concerned look on his face.

"She's having a bad spell, but I heard from her earlier, the doctors are sure she's going to pull through."

"I'm glad to hear that. Give Lydia my best when you hear from her again." David turned back to Pete. "I'm not seeing that these folks are doing anything wrong, Mr. Spencer. I mean, I haven't inspected everything, but from what I see these all look like new lights, all those new LED ones too, that hardly draw any power at all. And it looks like a lot of care was taken to make sure they were set up properly. I don't see any reason at all why this display should be taken down. Your display, on the other hand, well, I noticed last year that some of your lights looked a little old. In fact, a lot of them looked as if they'd seen better days. Maybe you ought to be thinking of replacing those this year. I'd hate to have to get the fire inspector out here."

At this, Pete turned visibly pale, noticeable even under decorative lights. He stammered for a moment, then finally stopped talking, just standing there, not sure what he should do.

"It's going to be even bigger, next year," Dean couldn't help but add. "Eventually, we'd like to get the whole neighborhood. Make one giant, street long display."

"That'll be impressive," Mark said, nodding thoughtfully.

"Uh, we'll probably keep this party going until around Midnight," Dean said. "I mean, we won't get any louder and the neighborhood is pretty much all here. Does that sound okay?"

Mark and David looked at each other and shrugged. "Sure," David finally said. "I mean, I can't see where anyone will complain. You folks are being very quiet, very considerate. Isn't that _right,_ Mr. Spencer?"

Pete hesitated, then looking at the officers, then at the crowd, many of whom were his neighbors, and realizing he was outnumbered, he nodded. "I guess it's okay," he said, then without a word to anyone, turned and walked away.

"God. he's _such_ a jackass," David muttered when he was out of earshot.

Dean grinned. "Look, I don't know what time you guys get off, but if it's before midnight, you're welcome to swing by and join us."

"Maybe we will," Mark said. "I live about two streets further down and we're off in less than half an hour."

"Wow," Dean grinned. "We're neighbors, in a sense. Then you _have_ to stop by."

"Thank you," Mark said, and then jerked his thumb in David's direction. "Maybe I'll even bring him along." David looked at him and rolled his eyes, but it was clear to everyone that the two of them were great friends.

"Bring anyone you want," Cinnamon said. "The more the merrier."

When David and Mark drove off, everyone breathed a sign of relief and started drifting off to enjoy the party again. Dean looked at Cinnamon and keeping his voice low, asked, "Keep Ka'eo's folks occupied, okay? I'm going to go make sure the kid isn't too crocked and if he is, I'm going to get Makaio and get him home and in bed."

Cinnamon nodded, "I'm a little surprised, I have to admit. This is isn't like Ka'eo."

"What? Underage drinking? Hell, Cin, you and I used to drink all the time and we weren't legally old enough when we met. You especially, you were barely eighteen."

"True," Cinnamon said, frowning. "I'm not judging that, although my opinions on the subject have changed a bit. But I know it's almost a right of passage to drink while still in High School, but as you pointed out, "Ka'eo's parents are at this same party. Ka'eo's not stupid, I can't believe he'd risk his parents finding out so easily."

"Yeah, that I agree," Dean said. "So, I'm going to find the kid and figure out what's going on."

* * *

He found Ka'eo in the back, sitting at one of the tables that had been set up for people to eat at. Roman was sitting across from him, urging him to eat a pulled pork sandwich. "C'mon, Ka'eo," Roman was saying. "You need to eat something."

Dean took a soda from one of the barrels and sat down next to him, deciding that he probably shouldn't drink a beer around the kid. "What's up?"

Ka'eo took a piece of the pulled pork and put it in his mouth. "My mom makes better," he said, glumly. Then he looked at Dean. "No offense, it's good, but my mom does it better."

"None taken," Dean said, grinning. "I didn't make the food, I just hired the catering company. Besides, everyone should think their mom made the best food." He studied Ka'eo, noting that their was a general air of sadness about him, as if someone had yelled at his puppy or something. "Are you okay, kid?"

Ka'eo nodded, then shook his head, staring at his sandwich.

"What's wrong?" Dean looked at Roman, inviting him to tell him if he knew, but Roman shrugged indicating that he hadn't found out anything, yet.

"Kid's like a clam," Roman said softly. "He's not talking."

Ka'eo turned and looked at Dean, eyes red as if he was fighting back tears. "Mr. Ambrose, I'm going to die a virgin!" Even though Dean knew it was probably the worst thing he could do for the kid, he and Roman both burst out laughing, unable to stop themselves. Ka'eo frowned, his gaze alternating between Dean and Roman. "Yeah, laugh all you want, but it's true!"

"It's Dean, remember?" Dean said, trying to stop his laughter. "And you ain't gonna die a virgin, unless you're joining the priesthood tomorrow." In truth, Dean was a little surprised that Ka'eo still _was_ a virgin. By the time he was Ka'eo's age, his virginity had been in the past. Maybe a more recent past than he ever admitted to his friends, but still, the past. Ka'eo was a good looking kid with that long hair, black like Roman's, but a little more wavy. Sure he was a little on the gangly side, but didn't teenage girls like that look?

"I might as well," Ka'eo said, mournfully. "Or cut it off, because it ain't doing me any good. I can sit to pee like a girl."

Roman and Dean flinched automatically, and tried not to laugh harder. "Don't you think that's a little drastic?" Roman asked. "There's nothing wrong with being a virgin."

"You don't get it," Ka'eo said, looking at Roman. "It's not just that I've never had sex, it's that I've never had a serious _girlfriend_ **.** Girls think I'm cute and they think I'm sweet, but that's as far as it gets. I'm doomed to live my life in the _friend_ zone."

"Harsh," Roman remarked.

"I don't think so," a voice interrupted. It was Raven, holding a beer. She sat down next to Roman. "Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear, and thought you might appreciate a female perspective in this conversation."

"Why not?" Dean said, looking at her. "Raven, it wasn't that long ago when you were in High School. If you had gone to school with Ka'eo, would you have been willing to go out with him."

Raven shrugged. "Yeah, but the bigger question is would _he_ have been willing to go out with _me?"_

Ka'eo looked over at her, an expression of confusion. "Well, yeah, I would have!" he said. "You've got a great ass!"

Roman and Dean burst out laughing, unable to control it. "I might have figured out some of your problem, son," Roman said between snorts of laughter. "I think you need to work on your approach."

"See?" Ka'eo said, his voice filled with beer and misery. "I can't do _anything_ right."

"Raven, why would you think Ka'eo wouldn't have wanted to go out with you back then?" Dean asked. "Not to be crude, but he's right, you have a magnificent butt, just like your sister. You must have been beating them off when you were in high school."

"Nope," Raven shook her head. "But I _could_ have, beat them off, I mean. That was part of the problem. See, my sister, she was into gymnastics until she was fifteen. She wanted to be a wrestler, and thought gymnastics was a great way to start. Me? I wanted to be a wrestler too. I started working for Empire State Wrestling when I was fifteen, just like she did. But I never did the gymnastics thing, I focused on Martial arts. I almost went into the UFC, but I decided that I really didn't want to beat up people, I wanted to just _look_ like I was." She looked at Ka'eo, "But the point was, that I don't think there was a person in my school I couldn't have taken out if I'd wanted to. I'm a runt, but I'm strong and I'm trained and all the guys knew that. When I was in Junior high, some guys tried to mess with me, snap my bra, cop a feel, that kind of stuff. I took out the ring leader of that little group. The word got around, don't mess with her, she's dangerous. Guys, especially guys your age, do not want to think that there is a girl around who could take them out. It hurts their pride, so they just decided they didn't like me, that I was ugly and beneath them."

"That sucks!" Ka'eo said, looking at Raven, his eyes wide. "If you'd been in my school, I would have thought you were cool."

"You say that," Raven said, "But you might have felt differently. But that's me, it's not you. From where I see, you're a good looking kid, I was watching you today and everyone seems to like you. You get along with everyone. Hell, most of the teenagers here that don't live on the street are here because _you_ asked them. Sounds to me like you're popular. If I were your age, I would have figured you were _way_ out of my league."

"I'm not in anyone's league," Ka'eo muttered darkly. "I'm not even in the ball park."

"For who?" Dean asked, starting to wonder if Ka'eo might be talking about someone specifically. "Who's out of your league? Give me an example."

Ka'eo sighed and shook his head. "Nothing," he mumbled, "forget I said anything."

Dean had a funny feeling that he knew exactly who Ka'eo was talking about. And that Ka'eo wasn't really all that upset about being a virgin, that he wasn't looking to date _every_ girl, and certainly not just _any_ girl. He had his mind on one girl in particular, but he also had the feeling that if he pushed Ka'eo on it, the kid would clam up. _Maybe it's time for the less direct approach._ "Look, maybe you need to just ask a girl out."

"Huh?" Ka'eo stared at him.

"I'm not talking about asking out the head cheerleader," Dean said.

"Good," Raven said. "Cheerleaders are such _heartless_ bitches."

"Hey! I _dated_ the head cheerleader when I was in high school!" Roman objected.

Raven stared at him. "Why does that completely _not_ surprise me?"

"Anyway!" Dean interrupted loudly, wanting to get things back on track. "I'm not talking about the head cheerleader or the prettiest girl in the school-"

"-Usually one and the same," Raven interrupted.

Dean shot her a withering glance and looked back at Ka'eo. "I'm talking about a _nice_ girl. You know, someone you talk to, someone you're friendly with, someone you seem to have enough in common with to have a good conversation. Like..." he paused deliberately, making it look as if he was wracking his brains, trying to think of someone, then snapped his fingers as if it just came to him. "Chrissy!"

The color drained from Ka'eo's face. "I can't ask _Chrissy_ out!" he said, almost gasping.

Raven and Roman looked at each other then to Dean who nodded his head slightly to let them know that Chrissy wasn't just a name pulled out of nowhere.

"Why not?" Roman asked, slowly, as if he was giving the matter thought while he spoke. "She's cute."

"And the two of you were getting along really well," Raven added.

"You were working close to her today," Dean agreed. "I mean, I know she was working her butt off, trying to get everything done, but every time I saw her, you were right there helping her, making sure it was getting done.

"Yeah," Roman said. "You were, like her right hand man."

"I think she likes you," Raven chimed in. "I mean, I don't know if she _liiiikes_ you, but she at least likes you and that's a start."

Ka'eo bit his lip, looking like he was giving the matter some thought. Dean noticed that he no longer looked drunk, as if this talk had been sobering him up. Finally, he shook his head. "No, she won't go out with me. She's like, _brilliant._ She's like, the smartest girl in the school. I have to work hard to keep my grades up. Why would she want to date a stupid guy?"

"You're not stupid," Raven protested, shaking her head. "If I'm hearing right, you were Dean's right hand man here in getting this organized, making it happen. A stupid person couldn't have done that."

"Yeah," Roman agreed. "And then you were Chrissy's right hand man in getting all the displays built. Again, a stupid person couldn't have done that."

"Not to mention you are on the honor roll," Dean added. "I mean, that's what Cinnamon tells me."

"I have to work _really_ hard to keep that," Ka'eo said, still glum. "Chrissy just.. makes it look easy."

"So?" Raven said. "That gives you an in. Tell her you're having problems with something. Some subject she's really good with. Ask her if she's willing to help you study."

"That's not a date!" Ka'eo protested.

"No, it's not," Roman agreed. "Well, it's a study date, but I know that's not what you want. But, when you ask her, you could offer to take her out for pizza when the studying is done. Tell her you want to pay her back for helping you."

"Okay," Ka'eo said slowly. "So? We go out for pizza, that's not a date."

"No, maybe not an official date, date," Dean said. "But it's a start, isn't it?"

"Sure!" Roman said, nodding. "You go out for pizza, talk, maybe bring the subject around to movies you both like, and if there is a movie coming out or that just came out that both of you want to see, ask her if she wants to go with you."

"You make it sound so easy!" Ka'eo protested. "What if she says _no?"_

"Then she says no," Raven said, shrugging. "Do you think you're the first guy to get shot down?"

"It feels like I will be." Ka'eo muttered.

Dean looked around the back yard, and as if the day was just meant for miracles, he saw the person in question, Chrissy, talking to of all people, Neil. _Perfect_ , he thought, and turned to Ka'eo. "Chrissy is back here," he said. "She's talking to Neil."

"I'm not surprised," Ka'eo said looking miserable. "Neil is probably more fascinating than _I_ am."

"Stop that!" Dean said, shaking his head. "No, here's how it's going to happen. You're going to go over to Neil and tell him I want to talk to him. Neil will come over here. That will leave you with Chrissy. You're going to ask her if she can help you study for something. Or you're going to ask her if she wants to go to a movie, I don't care, but you _are_ going to ask her out."

"I _can't!"_ Ka'eo wailed.

"Yes you _can,"_ Roman disagreed, warming up to Dean's idea.

Dean figured the kid needed a little more incentive. "Hey, she knew who I was, right? Does she like wrestling?"

Ka'eo nodded. "She loves it."

"How about this, then," Dean said, thinking. "If you ask her out on that study date, the next time we've got a show in West Virginia, we'll get you and her front row, VIP, all access tickets. We've got a show in Virginia tomorrow night, but that's a little far and a little sudden. We'll be in West Virginia in January, I think."

"Great idea!" Roman agreed, enthusiastically. "If she loves wrestling, you can ask her while you're having pizza."

"Yeah," Raven said. "It works out. It gives you a future date, not too far, but far enough that hell, you might as well go see a movie, go out for coffee, all of that."

Ka'eo's brows furrowed, and Dean knew that the idea of getting VIP tickets to a house show was a powerful incentive for any wrestling fans, especially Ka'eo. "Do you really think she'll be willing to go with me?" he asked.

All three of them reassured him that she would. "Go do it," Dean said. "Just _do_ it."

Ka'eo slowly rose to his feet, looking fairly steady. Dean was actually glad the kid had done some drinking. He wasn't plastered, he'd sobered up enough that he didn't appear drunk, but Dean was betting one of those beers he'd drunk had given him some courage. "Okay," he mumbled, "I'll do it."

The three of them watched as Ka'eo walked over to Chrissy. "Nice form," Raven said, taking a swallow of her beer. "Not going too fast, but not too slow."

Ka'eo walked over and while they couldn't hear him, they saw him talking to Neil, who nodded and came hurrying over. "Dad, is everything okay?"

"Sure," Dean said, motioning him to take Ka'eo's seat. "We're just watching something."

"Okay," Neil's brows furrowed, but he sat down next to his dad.

The four of them watched Ka'eo, unable to hear what he was saying, but they could see he was talking to Chrissy, looking earnest, but not too eager. "He's got it," Roman murmured.

"Got what?" Neil asked, confused.

They ignored Neil, watching as Ka'eo said something to Chrissy. Watched her nod, then watched her smile. Then, apparently, Ka'eo said something amusing, because the two of them laughed, and Chrissy nodded again.

"Nailed it," Raven said.

"Yeah," Roman agreed.

"Uh, Dad?" Neil shook his head, looking confused. "What are we watching?"

Dean grinned, watching as Chrissy reached out and put her hand on Ka'eo's arm, a friendly, comforting gesture. "We're watching a Christmas miracle."

The End

 _Authors Notes_ _: Thank you to everyone who read this. Thank you again to everyone who favored and/or followed this. Extreme thanks to everyone who reviewed. It means a whole lot to me._

 _I hope your holidays, if indeed you are going to be celebrating, are merry and bright. To those whose holidays have passed? I hope they were a time of wonder and joy and family. To those who celebrate nothing this time of year? Stay safe, stay warm, stay happy._

 _May peace be the companion of your soul  
May love be the companion of your heart  
May joy be the companion of your life  
Through this year and all the years to come_

 _Willow Edmond_


End file.
